


all the good girls (go to hell)

by Evelyn_fireheart



Series: she's dusted by flames (burns like one too) [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood-centric, BAMF Clary Fray, Clary Fray & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Clary Fray is a badass, Clary and Alec are smol beans, Gen, Her name is Clarissa Morgenstern and she will kick your ass, How Do I Tag, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I feel like their friendship needs to be talked about more, I love their potential so much, Injured Alec Lightwood, LITERALLY, Semantics, but honestly, but you know, dont know, its justified (i promise), just a bit, not much violence tagged just in case, there's like a little bit of swearing, well actually i wrote this instead of revising which i would have done instead of sleeping, what was i thinking]
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-04-05 22:18:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19049551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evelyn_fireheart/pseuds/Evelyn_fireheart
Summary: Alec is... slightly surprised to find out that Clary views him as one of his own.Though, when he wakes up with venom eating through his body and a concussion drilling into his head, he realises that maybe he shouldn’t be.edit: I literally only posted this cause i was having a breakdown and couldn't make the words go right. Anyways, don't @ me cause i might have to literally fight you.





	all the good girls (go to hell)

 Alec is... slightly surprised to find out that Clary views him as one of her own. (He’s completely shocked, actually.)

Though, when he wakes up with agony ripping through his body and a concussion drilling into his head, he realises that maybe he shouldn’t be. Surprised, that is. (By the Angel, concussions are horrible. His brain feels like demon goo just sloshing around)

The sight of Clary braced over his body, face set in a terrifyingly empty façade while she growls her warning to the gathering demons should likely be a scary one.

It’s the first time he looks at her, _truly_ looks at her, and sees Morgenstern. Not the mortal, gentle handed Fray with a heart of gold, and not the honour-bound Fairchild with steel running through her bones and sharp intelligence carving her way. No, this is a Morgenstern.

This is Clarissa Morgenstern. Child of the angels - _child_ _of_ _Lucifer_ \- and she was defending her own.

Perhaps it should incite fear in him, but he just looks at her and sees _Clary_ , and a fond kind of affection rises in him instead.

 

* * *

 

Alexander Lightwood was a complex person at the best of times, and a maze at his worst. But even he was surprised when he realised just how much Clary had integrated into his life.

He had been standing by the strategy table, arms crossed and face pursed in his Serious™ glare as Jace developed yet another one of his astoundingly stupid plans. Izzy was sat to his left, leant back in her chair with a smirk tinged with something devilish while Clary flanked Alec on his right, staring Jace down with just as much unimpressed annoyance as he did -perhaps more.

Her expression was practically screaming  _'Jesus Christ, Jace get your head out of your fucking ass',_ and with the amount of times she had hissed those exact words to Jace before, Alec wouldn't be surprised if she said it again.

He would probably even welcome them, really. Seriously, how many times can you propose a suicide mission before your recklessness becomes insanity? 

Perhaps realising the pointlessness of trying to argue with a Clary who had set her mind on something, he turned to Alec with something like pleading spread across his features. A few of his extravagant hand motions finally ceased as he realised Alec and Clary had joined in their unflinching resolve to crush Jace's outlandish plans.

"Come on," Jace said, taking a step around the table. Something shifted in his expression and his body language became fluid once more- obedient. Alec narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Jace may be his brother and parabatai, but Alec is the head of the Institute. Even without that, Alec isn't _stupid_.

"Just think about how fun a hunt this size would be with just the four of us, Alec," he said soothingly, voice layered with honey so sweet something in Alec shrivelled up. From the look on Clary's face at her boyfriend's terrible attempts at manipulation, she felt the same. 

"No, Jace. We can’t afford to lose standing with the Clave right now. We need all the political currency we can get." Alec didn't waver as he took a step back from his parabatai, though he clasped his arm lightly. "It’s just one batch of demons, Jace, other shadowhunters will handle them and we will survive to kill again." He didn't miss the slight twitch upwards of Clary's mouth at that.

If he didn't know better, he would even say that something in him felt lighter for having caused it.

"Alec..." Jace whined, pouting like a kicked puppy.

"No."

"But we could-"

"Nope."

“Okay,” Jace said, drawing his words out into a tentative drawl. “What if-no, hear me out here Alec,” Jace’s raised hand quietened Alec’s protests as he decided to let his brother speak, but he allowed the annoyance at being treated like a feral animal to flicker across his face. 

The way Clary tensed, hands drifting to the knives at her sides told Alec that had triggered something in her. Some memory or experience, maybe. 

Alec was grateful when Jace started talking again, as it gave him a reason not to worry over that inexplicable motion.

“We could go hunting together, just the three of us, like old times. Clary,” Jace hesitated, glancing to Clary questioningly as if to check he wasn’t hurting her. The tension resting solidly in her shoulders didn’t ease, but Alec saw from the corner of his eye that her fingers loosened around where they had braced the hilts of her kindjals.

Clary gave Jace a short nod, a smile twisting the corner of her mouth, and Jace continued. “Clary, well she isn’t fully trained yet; no matter her skill level. And if we go out on our own, there will be less chance of danger.”

Alec refused to think about how Clary looked like she was wincing. It wasn’t his place.

“He has a point, Alec,” Izzy said with a soothing smile. But Alec saw the slight clenching of teeth beneath the red-stained lips and wonders if Izzy saw that fear in Clary too.

After all, the two women had always had a bond Alec had never fully been able to understand. Something more than friends, more than sisters (though they were both of those things, too).

The closest Alec had come to truly understanding them was one day about a month ago when they were preparing for battle.

Both had been fully geared up, seraph blades lining their legs and their specialised weapons clasped in their hands. Clary had shifted her kindjals into their sheaths on her thighs and slid a long sword into the hold fitted down the line of her spine. Izzy had clasped her whip around her wrist in unison and then, they clasped hands.

Hand to elbow, foreheads touching, the two fearsome women had shared a breath of peace before they dove into a hunt that would leave some families motherless, or childless, and leave children as orphans. Isabelle had sighed, and pulled her head back until the two were standing about a meter apart, hands still clasped between them. "See you soon, Morgenstern," she had breathed, voice as unwavering as if they were simply parting before going to sleep.

"Right back at you, Lightwood." Clary's voice had been tired and aching and filled with love _,_ but there was no weakness in it. Only certainty, and no goodbyes.

One word had rung clearly through Alec’s mind. _Parabatai_.

Now though, as he watched the way Izzy’s brow creased in worry for her sister, Alec finally realised that even that sacred word seems too little for the bond the two shared. It rang with melancholy and loneliness, a mirroring of souls even he and Jace hadn’t shared. _(She said she always wanted a sister, but what she meant was she always wanted an equal.)_

And he- Alec didn't know what to do. Because he's not Jace, who had been infatuated with Clary since he first met her, and in love with her not long after that. He doesn't have the understanding of who she is like Izzy does, doesn't even know her that well in the first place. 

It pisses him off, because he wants to know her but he can't. There's just not enough time and- 

And part of him thinks she wouldn't want to know him, anyway. Besides, what would they even be to each other? They couldn't be friends; they bicker too much for that, and they get along _just_ too well to be colleagues so...

Alec draws in a sharp breath, and focuses the entirety of his gaze back on Jace, attempting to focus his thoughts on that idiotic plan too. That thought, that voice in his head that whispered  _'we would be siblings, bickering and caring rolled into one. Perfect, don't you think?'_ sounded entirely too much like the tone Clary used when someone she loved was hurt. When she was joking and soothing and trying to patch up all the pain. There was so much kindness in it, so much of what made Clary who she is, and a huge part of Alec wanted to just agree to that thought. 

Blocking it from his mind, Alec made up his mind to try and avoid Clary until he figured out why he saw her as a sister, and blindly agreed to Jace's plan.  _What was it again?_ "Are you sure?" Jace asked, something like suspicious hope in his voice. 

Alec was so tired. "Yeah- yeah sure. Let's just get this over with." 

Just like that, Jace lit up and bounced off to gear up. Alec sighed. "Well done," Isabelle said, a sharp smirk playing on her mouth. "You've just made his day better and yours a lot worse."

Clary hummed a scant shadow of a laugh, and he forced down the wave of worry that crested at the distant sound. Even Isabelle's mouth tightened at the edges. Like a puppet's strings pulled too tight. Alec rubbed a hand over his face and began to walk to the armoury.

Isabelle called, "And don't act like that didn't happen, brother. We both saw the way you acted." He could hear the accusation in it, judging the genuineness of his apparent affection for Clary (that had grown without him realising) but he didn't respond.

Not when he glanced over his shoulder at the doorway and saw Isabelle pushing Clary down into a seat, hands rubbing her shoulders as she murmured assurances to her.

 

* * *

 

He had known it was a bad idea since he got a good look at Clary, dusted with sunlight and looking like Hell had spat her out. And that was before the chaos _actually_ started.

For the record, she didn't look like hell had thrown her out because she was in a bad state or anything. No, it was more for the fact that she was practically incandescent with fury, and had become acquainted with two rather long swords, each hanging loosely from her hands with an ease that marked her as an unknown variable, a chaotic entity. Yes, it was more like the satanic rulers had glimpsed her and said, _'We do not want this harbinger, **take her back**.'  _Predictably, Jace loved it.

Alec suspected that Jace didn't know what had caused it either, and understood it just as well as he did, but- well. Jace had fallen for Clary in the first place because he couldn't decipher her, so it was no surprise that this unpredictable shift into rage would not faze him. Nor would the fact that Clary had apparently decided to come on this hunt anyway. To be honest, from the emotion plying her muscles with war-ready tension, she probably needed it.

(The relief that Alec felt was only because there was another to watch his back. Nothing more.)

"Let's go," Clary said as she sauntered past him, Isabelle a half-step behind her with a mouth set in a smirk fit for a tigress. Something about the relaxed nature of it put Alec on edge, no matter how much he knew she would never hurt him. She would never even dream of it. But that feline grace showed the power that had been trained into Isabelle since birth, and her bared teeth were a mere glimpse of the strength she held within her petite form. A Lightwood through and through. _(Strength, grace, beauty and, of course, an unforgiving heart. You were made as a Lightwood, perhaps the first true one there has been in centuries, my dear.)_

And Clary, with her fierce intelligence and sharp tongue, she was the golden side to Isabelle's silver coin. Maybe it should terrify him, the girl with such a hold on his family. But, impossibly, it didn't. Couldn't. Because, as intrinsically as if it were Izzy who said it, Alec sensed the rushed need in her voice and followed the almost-command instinctively.

So, as one, the four of them weaved their way out of the Institute and into the murky streets beyond.

_(The Lightwoods have stuck beside the Morgenstern’s for generations-the Fairchild’s even more so- and your father was only one man. You, Clarissa Morgenstern, are the best of all of us, and have the courage and heritage to show for it.)_

 

* * *

 

They were wandering through the lower levels, and had decided to split into pairs so they'd find the demon hotspot faster. Alec said Clary needed more experience without Izzy, Izzy refused to let Clary go with Jace and _then_ Izzy had the bright idea that she was the only one able to keep him in line. 

Leaving Clary and Alec together to explore an abandoned warehouse while Izzy and Jace got to roam the glimmering streets of New York. Alec sighed, and nodded. When he saw Clary do the same with only a bit less reluctance, the four parted ways with grim smiles.

As they wandered through the large, empty space, Alec realised that he still didn't know what was wrong with Clary. Problem was, however, how exactly does he ask her without sounding like an ignorant oaf? _Magnus would know,_ he thinks. _Magnus always knows._ Then again, Magnus and Clary too had a unique relationship. He was like her weirdly fashionable uncle, and she was his Biscuit. Once again, Alec's struck by the thought that he doesn't have _anything_ with Clary. No inside jokes and secret laughs, no communication through glances or shared experiences, nothing. _Nada_.

"Spit it out," Clary says, not even pretending it's a pleasantry. 

Okay, so maybe Clary gets him a little bit. Still, though. "What?" Alec splutters.

"I know you've got a question so: spit it out." Clary's shoulders tensed, and she began walking just a bit faster, as if to get away from him. Alec frowned, and lengthened his strides. (He would never say this out loud, but Clary's quite short.)

"Okay so- forgive me if I'm being invasive- but you seemed... off. Earlier, that is. And I realise that I don't have any right to ask, really, or to invade your privacy about your relationships with our family, but-"

"Hey, hey- it's alright, Alec." Clary laughed and something about it seemed like a sign that he wasn't actually making things worse.  Alec flushed, immediately regretting opening his mouth at all when he was going to stutter like that. What made him feel like he could handle emotions anyway? _(Lightwood men are made of steel, Alexander. Next time, **control yourself**.)_

Clary gave him a measuring look, and the sharp intelligence in it made him stand taller, straighter. Sometimes Alec couldn't help but see that perceptiveness and imagine Clary as a general of a thousand armies, dictating the pathways of war with an iron mind. But then Clary smiled, a delicate, cutting thing and she was immediately once again just Clary. Petite, kind-hearted Clary Fairchild who loved with all her might.

"Sometimes it's just hard, I guess," she said, turning her eyes away from Alec's and resolutely staring at a point on the distant wall. "I just- I had a _life_ , you know?" Clary's eyes are bright with tears, irises a brilliant clash of earth and gold as Alec shakes his head. 

"I had; I had a _family_. My mom, Simon, my friends. I was going to go to Brooklyn Academy of Art and study; like I've been dreaming for years. But instead I walk into a club for the first time, just to celebrate my 18th birthday, and instead crash into this world of demons and angels and _death_. But my old life is still there, siren-calling me with all the wonders of mundane life, and leaving me stretched taught between two different dreams. Two different destinies."

"I understand," Alec said slowly, "But our world was always going to be yours, someday, even your mother sai-" 

"So?" she said, whirling her hands around her head. "what does that matter when she's dead, Alec? Your hands ripped out her chest and left me here, alone!"

"Clary I-"

"It's okay, Alec. I don't blame you." And then, quieter, "It's always okay. I'm just so _tired_ , since the day I stepped into Pandemonium I've been running and running and I just want to- to _stop_ ," Clary smiled, empty of emotion yet so goddamn _sad_. Alec would've sworn something dark stirred in her eyes, but he was distracted by the sound of something slithering along the cracked concrete floor.

"Clary, we need to-"

"I know, Alec, we need to focus. It's okay," she said quietly. The entire thing was so uncharacteristically dull of Clary that it sent a tenor of worry echoing through Alec, but there were more important things at hand. At least right now. (But God if he didn't want to drop his weapons and hug her right there.)

 Alec cleared his throat and slid his bow into his hand. Reaching over his shoulder for an arrow, he said, "Keep your eyes sharp and don't lose them. When they attack, they're going to swarm." He saw Clary nod her assent from the corner of his eye as he turned to put her back to her, and silently marvelled at how her body had already gone loose with pliant grace. She was a scorching mix of natural talent and Izzy's harsh training, and it showed in the ease of her limbs as she twirled her swords in her hands. 

Alec was glad. He hadn't fought with only Clary by his side before, but he was glad to know it was her at his back. _(They had always had an unusual kind of trust in the other's competency. A kind that sprung only from the hearts of warriors.)_ They stopped pressing into the empty warehouse and instead circled around each over, always looking over each other's shoulders. Always in preparation for attack.

"Alright," Alec said when it seemed long enough had passed that the demons had moved on without detecting them, "we should move on and see if we can cut them off before they reach the-" 

If it wasn't for the quick change in the tension in Clary's face, he might not have reacted in time. But he saw it, and because of it his body was already preparing itself when she commanded clearly, "Duck!" Body moving fluidly, Alec ducked and rolled to his right. Just in time to see Clary thrust her sword into the mouth of a ravener demon. If Alec had continued watching, he might have seen the flash of pain that crossed Clary's face as she pushed the sword through the demon's upper jaw. Unfortunately, as he would later blame himself for, Alec was already spinning to face the oncoming horde of demons.

A little thrum of panic rose despite his training when he saw just how many there were. _Jesus fucking Christ, there's hundreds._ Regardless, Alec released an arrow into the gut of another demon and cursed the bad choices that had led to him and Clary standing alone against what seemed like thousands of demons. _Jace,_ he seethed in the part of his mind not fully immersed in the rhythms of war.  _I'm going to kill that thick-headed grunt where he stands._

Clary had taken to slicing the demons' heads off, her lengthy, yet thin swords perfectly fitting into the grooves in their armour. Teeth gritted in what looked like a growl, she looked positively demonic as she moved fluidly between them and Alec found himself trusting in her abilities enough to turn away from her and begin releasing arrows with even greater passion.

For a while, everything was going fine.

 

Then, Alec was distracted.

 

* * *

 

It shouldn't have happened. 

He had just retrieved an arrow that had dropped to the ground when the demon it had been lodged in had turned to ash, and was checking Clary's progress. He noted (with no small amount of pride) that fighting was good for her, and he could see how relaxed she was in that moment. She was moving rapidly-almost too fast- and the demons were being slaughtered at an astonishing rate. But then one of them stalked up behind her, and Alec watched in slow motion as their barbed tail raised to pierce her through the back.

His mind went silent and screaming, all at once. Part of him thought his hands might have been shaking as they raised to grasp an arrow, eyes blind to the blood and gore that already coated Clary _(red-too red- demons have black blood why is she covered in so much **red** )_ and only seeing that disastrous tail rising and rising and _rising_ to meet unprotected flesh.

Before he could even do _anything_ , Clary was spinning to meet it, both swords flying high in a deadly arc and then falling, falling, falling, to meet the demon's head. Something similar to fear cracked the thing's face _(like a terrified animal, come **on** Jace they're just animals being controlled to do a master's bidding. I won't deny that their death is what's best for the world but they don't deserve **torture** ) _before it was gone in a flash of silver as Clary neatly decapitated its head.

Remorse might have flashed over Clary's face, but Alec's eyes were suddenly blurry and he couldn't tell. He wondered groggily why everything was going so slowly, and it was then that agony chose to flare up in his abdomen.  _Oh hello, welcome to the tea party. We have scones over on the right._

Alec really was spending too much time with Magnus. He must've said as much, for Clary was suddenly looming over him as he lay (on the ground? Really? Does she have no class?), and sunlight was bright above him and casting her with a halo. She gleamed bright as a god before the dawn, and Alec might have felt pride for it. 

"On the contrary, I don't think you spend enough," she said, sending him a kind smile even as bloody hands tightened around the hilts of her swords. _An archangel fighting the hordes of Hell,_ Alec thought. _Beautiful_. "It's okay. I'll keep you safe."

As if it had been permission, Alec's body promptly ignored his protests and pulled him into unconsciousness.

 

* * *

 

_He was in a garden of death. T_ h _e sky bloomed with flowers of ruby and cerulean blue, and he thought he might be happy here. He felt safe and contented, something he'd last had with a man bedecked with stars. Despite the glow that had graced the skin of the man he loved, he found that it was nice to be happy just with himself._

_To drift was not so bad, he thought._

_High above him, in a world of thriving people whose veins were scorched with sunlight, there seemed to be a war being waged. But right here, in this moment, it was peaceful. He found he liked it, even if he had been born to wartime. Loving a man with infinity in his heart had taken its toll, and part of him wished for impossibility of moments again._

_The part of him that was mortal wanted to remain._

_Then again, he was part angel._

_The angel said **No**._

 

* * *

 

Alec awoke to pain shuddering through his bones, and Clary poised above his body. Hisses tore from her crumpled mouth, and he wondered how long it had taken for her to be reduced to this shell. A glance down at his injury told him it had been at least an hour, likely two. It had started to fester despite the iratzes Clary had undoubtedly redrawn, over and over again. They couldn't heal the venom, but they could heal the parts untouched by it. 

Which meant that his angelic powers were healing the wound up with the venom _still inside_. His body would fight it, trying to expel the venom the only ways it knows how, but the iratze would win and result in a mess of broken vessels, venom and decomposing organs sealed inside his body if they didn't get help soon. 

Judging by the half-wild glances Clary was giving his side, she knew too. Alec scraped up the energy to look around, and saw that the demon situation hadn't gotten any better. They were still amassing around the two shadowhunters, and Alec realised that he was slumped against a wall now. It was a badly made decision in terms of strategy, but Alec couldn't bring himself to fault her for it when his head felt clearer like this and it gave him a sense of awareness.

The choice of putting Alec's health over their collective safety might be a bad Shadowhunter decision, but it was so _Clary_. He felt there was a big distinction there, but for some reason he couldn't make it.

Alec registered the ache emanating from the back of his head and made a mental note of the idea that he _may_ have a concussion.

 That may do it in terms of the thinking issues.

Oh by the Angel, Jace will _never_ let this go.

Speaking of, where the fuck were they? As if reading his stupid as hell mind _(man, concussions are **horrible**. His brain feels like demon goo just sloshing around)_, Clary says soothingly, "I called Izzy and she said that they're making their way towards us as fast as they can. Unfortunately, _someone_ managed to lead them to the other side of the neighbourhood, so they gon' be a while," The pure exasperation in her voice makes a corner of Alec's mouth twitch, even with the agony tearing him apart. 

"You're gon' be okay though, Alec, don't you worry. I've got a mendelin rune on your chest, and an amissio next to it. Didn't want t'risk overdoing it so I altered the mendelin slightly so the power that would normally be directed to invisibility is now redirected to _-oh, FUCK OFF_ \- is now supporting the amissio in blood reproduction," she panted out brokenly. Despite the way she stood strong before him, reaching out lazily every now and then to put the demons off, he fought to remember a thought he'd had before passing out.

It had been about Clary, and it had been **important**.

Something to do with the red blooming through her t-shirt like flowers in spring, decadent and deadly beneath the jacket that had been thrown open in the fight.  _What was it? Why couldn't his brain just. Make. The. Connection._

The bit of his mind that worked worried softly about the exhaustion painted over her face, aching and screaming for the need to ask her  _and you, what runes have you put on yourself?_ but it was drowned out by the overwhelming pride that he just couldn't quiet.

The sight of Clary braced over his body, face set in a terrifyingly empty facade while she growls her warning to the gathering demons should likely be a scary one.

After all, it’s the first time he looks at her, _truly_ looks at her, and sees Morgenstern. Not the mortal, gentle handed Fray with a heart of gold, and not the honour-bound Fairchild with steel running through her bones and sharp intelligence carving her way.

No, this is a Morgenstern.

This is Clarissa Morgenstern. Child of the angels - _child_ _of_ _Lucifer_ \- and she was defending her own.

Perhaps it should incite fear in him, but he just looks at her and sees _Clary_ , and a fond kind of affection rises in him instead. The nature of it was identical to the way he felt about Izzy, and he found he didn't care this time. Because Clary is- she picks who she loves and does so relentlessly, and that gentleness in her tone was reserved for those who had earnt her favour.

Maybe they didn't have something special like she did with Izzy and he did with Jace, but they had a quiet, sarcastic kind of love for each other that had grown and persisted through many arguments. Maybe that was enough.

But then Clary was straightening, and her stele  _(I got it from my Mom)_ was sliding into its sheath on her thigh with gentle nostalgia. Her swords were once again grasped in her hands, but this time her knuckles seemed to be white from terror, not rage. "It's gon' be okay, Alec. Don't you worry."

Alec's mind went silent again. Darkness echoed in its place, as Clary stepped ever-so-slowly towards the demons. They had been circled around them, but now they stood directly in front of her; Death's minions waiting for a sacrifice.

Clary's back tensed, and it told Alec that she was willing to go down, if she was able to go down fighting.

_~~(for him, for him)~~ _

Shouts became audible _~~-toofarawayhurryupshe'sgoing-~~_ and something like hope sparked in the way Clary tilted her head. But then Alec glimpsed the corner of her blood-drenched smile, the way she bared her too-sharp teeth, and instantly realised it might not be enough.

_(Morgensterns are stubborn. I love her, but when she gets her heart set on something, she's impossible to deter. Actually, I think that's a large part of why I love her._

**_Just like you, then._ **

Jace had smiled, so free and open and adoring. _Just like me.)_

"Please don't!" Alec wanted to plead, wanted to roar and pound into her stubborn little head-no, _heart_. "I'm not worth it."

The last thing he saw was dozens of demons rearing on scuttling back legs, and the impending doom they brought with their menacing fangs.

The darkness dragged him back into its embrace, kicking and screaming, but not before he saw the finality in Clarissa Morgenstern's daring smirk as she stepped ever further away from him.

Fearless.

 

* * *

 

A scream was tearing its way out of his throat before he was even fully awake. The only thought was- the only thing in his _~~quietwhysoquietyoushouldbemourning~~_ head was-

"Clary- Clary, where is she?" Jace laughed brokenly, and Alec allowed gratefulness for that small mercy to rise before he squashed it. He was in the infirmary and he was with Jace and he _couldn't see Clary._ That last message echoed in his head _-itsgoingtobeokayitsgoingtobeokayitsgoingtobeokay-_ and Alec couldn't breathe.

"Hey, calm down," Jace said, pushing Alec back down into the bed with two firm hands to his shoulders. "She's alright. Just recovering in her room instead of here." Breathing finally came easier to him, and he managed to relax enough to sink back into the cushions. Wait- shadowhunters only heal in their rooms if it's- if it's permanent. (or semi-permanent, but you try and tell Alec's frantically rising heartbeat that.)

"How bad was it?" Alec presses his hand into the one Jace still hasn't removed from his shoulder, and hates himself for the fact that Clary was stranded in her bed, and Jace was here to see _him_. He's not even seriously injured!

Jace's lips tremble, and he's suddenly cut out of his worry for Clary by sharp worry for Jace. The composed expression of Jace's face breaks and his shoulders slump, hand coming up to rub at his eyes. "It was bad, really bad."  _That's not enough,_ Alec wanted to scream,  _tell me the truth!_ A self-depreciating smile twitched up the corners of Jace's mouth, but it seems grim more than anything else, and rings with hopelessness. "When we finally got to you- Alec she was..."

Alec dug his nails into his palm.  _(Control yourself, Alexander.)_ "The way she looked; she was practically an inch from death. I didn't- I had to carry her back and I thought... I thought she was _dead_."

"Is she- can I see her?" He couldn't summon the power to ask if she was even awake. Please, _please_ let her be awake and healthy.

 Jace gave him a considering look, and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "Sure, you're almost completely healed now, anyway. Brother Shadrach said that the venom was working its way out of your body slowly, but that it was progressive enough that you should be fully mobilised in a few days."

Alec nodded and, grimacing, started trying to get out of bed. "Wait, wait let me help you with that," Jace said, racing to get a wheelchair that had apparently been by the bedside without him noticing it. "How are you feeling?"

His wound stung, but overall it wasn't that bad so Alec didn't feel like he was entirely lying as he said, "I'm fine, Jace. No need to bring out your mother-hen tendencies."

"You're fine, really? if it wasn't for Clary's skill with runes you would've died on the way back to the Institute. Frankly, if it had been anyone else with you when you got injured, you probably would've died while she fought them off."

"In my defence, I didn't know it was that bad."

"That's because you're a dumbass, and Clary's angelic blood makes iratzes more powerful. She's like a human painkiller."

"I feel like that's a bit of a dehumanising thing to say about someone, Jace," Alec said, raising an eyebrow up at him and twisting slightly in his chair. It hurt like a bitch, but the disappointment he was able to convey made it more than worth it. Then Jace purposefully turned a corner too fast and Alec was left gasping, black spots dancing before his eyes. Asshole.

"Oh, shut up. She's the love of my life and she knows it; I'm pretty sure I can get away with a few comments when she already knows I practically worship her."

Alec can hear ~~the mundane's~~ Simon's voice in his head going,  _That's kinky, Jace._ He opens his mouth to say it, preparing to blame his decisions on deliriousness, when he hears a quiet voice. "I can hear you; you know." 

It's Clary. Except it can't be, because Clary's never quiet. She never lets herself go unheard. And just like that, the tentative humour on Jace's face shutters down and he knows it was worse -way worse- than Jace had made it out to be. Alec's seen that look on his face before; like he'd come within an inch of watching someone he loves die. He never wanted to see it on his face again. Especially not in regards to Clary.

_For god's sake Alec, you just had to agree blindly to a mission due to being emotionally compromised, didn't you? Even when you're the fucking leader of the Institute, you're still a fucking dumbass. And as a result, your-your sister almost died. You almost killed your parabatai's girlfriend? Partner? Soulmate?_ No word he thought of truly conveyed how much Jace adored Clary, as if he was dying every day he did yet couldn't stop.

 It was similar to how he felt about Magnus, the intensity of it and the debilitating fear of loss. But then again, Jace and Clary shared mortality between them and, while Ithuriel's blood in their veins might mean they're longer lived than normal shadowhunters, they would die within years of each other. Maybe even months if the heartbreak took the one left behind. Alec liked to think they would both try to survive but that kind of love... well it usually only comes once in a mortal life.

Apparently Jace had opened the door to Clary's room while he had been lost in thought, because when he glanced up from the floor he stared directly into her shockingly green irises. She smiled softly at him, relief and happiness softening her eyes, but it didn't manage to distract Alec from the various bandages wrapped around her. The blankets were pulled up to her shoulders, so it was untold how many injuries there were underneath, but he could see white strips poking out from the quilt, wrapped tight around her shoulder.

Not to mention the bruises decorating her neck, and the cuts lining her face. A slice ran down her cheekbone, gouging deep into the skin. He could see the deep red of blod oozing out of it even though it was taped up. It dripped slowly down Clary's face, trailing down her porcelain skin and decorating her cheeks with a gruesome lines. "We tried to get them to stop bleeding, but the substances on what she was scraped by prevented it. Apparently we have to wait for it to stop naturally," Jace murmured. 

Alec didn't notice. He was too busy staring at the hand she was offering to him, so tiny in his as he stepped fully into the room and took it, moving to crouch by her bed. "Hey, asshole," Clary said, gentleness softening her words into an endearment. "How are you?"

He didn't know whether to feel proud for the fact that this traumatising event hadn't scratched her kindness, or pitying. After all, she must have gone through some horrific things if a demon attack of this scale didn't faze her. Though Alec's eyes once again flickered upon the decade-old scars decorating her hands, and the triumphant tilt to her lips, and realised it wasn't up to him. Jace chuckled quietly behind him, and it sounded like awe. 

Good.

"I'm okay," he said after deliberating on his words. He hoped she would get it. She squeezed his hand in return. She did. "And you? Have you finished moaning about your petty scratches enough yet, or are you going to continue milking it like a little brat?"

_Thank you,_ is what he was really saying,  _why would you do that for me? Please tell me you're okay._

"Ah, I think I'm going to keep being a brat, thanks."  _I'm okay, Alec. It still hurts like hell, but I'm stronger than you think._

"Not like you have a choice I guess. Suppose it's just your personality." _I know. You're the strongest person I've ever met. It's astounding and heartbreakingly natural. Why?_

 Clary smiled at him again, and Alec couldn't help but wonder if the shine in her eyes was from more than just the pain. He glanced to Jace for direction, but he was just staring down at them with an unreadable look on his face. Somehow Izzy had joined him, and they were both leaning against the doorframe, staring at them with wide eyes.

He supposed it was understandable.

Here were he and Clary, recovering from a shared traumatic event and degrading each other while grasping hands. It was weird, and maybe even slightly paradoxical, but it was _them_. He and Clary. Not exactly siblings, or friends or even allies. All of them and none at the same time.

So he ignored the questions he saw in their eyes, the demands and threats in Izzy's _(she is- she will be my parabatai. I will not let anyone take that from me),_ and instead turned back to Clary to see the feral grin twisting her lips, as she scathingly replied, "Well, you would know wouldn't you? We're both fucked up brats Alec, don't pretend you haven't done half the things I have, you repressed dipshit."

Alec burst out laughing, relieved for the comfortable dance they'd settled back into, even as what her meaning filtered through. Because it was good to have someone to laugh with, and make fun of, who took every word with a pinch of understanding rather than salt. He didn't have to be nice, or kind with Clary.

He laughed, because she's a Morgenstern, and sometimes you just need someone who you can unleash yourself on and not fear for causing pain.

Most of all, though, he laughed because for once he didn't understand something- someone- and it was okay. It was okay to be imperfect.

 

* * *

 

_We've both been through some tough shit, and not all of it changed us for the better. Being kept silent is what makes chaos, and being kept in the dark is what breeds monsters. It happened to us, an_ _d_ _it made u_ _s dangerous, and cold, and sharper than the blade of my kindjal. But we are here, and we are alive, and that is enough._

_That is enough._

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was going to write something real meaningful here about my reasons behind Alec's characterisation, the choices I made regarding his insecurities, his confusion about Clary and all that shit but like  
> ew
> 
> maybe when I'm less dead lmao ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Um pls love this I guess? Also, comment errors and stuff pretty please because i'm literally legally dumb. 
> 
> big time o o f


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